


Nessun Dorma

by Olivia_ES



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2019 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV), Turandot - Gozzi, Turandot - Puccini
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Day 3: AU/Crossover, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2019, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-12-18 18:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_ES/pseuds/Olivia_ES
Summary: Oswald Cobblepot is a prince who has been driven from his own kingdom by invaders. After arriving in another kingdom he hears of a prince who refuses to wed and challenges anyone wishing to marry him to answer three of his riddles or die. Oswald is smitten, could he be the one to finally pass the Prince's test?For Nygmobblepot Week - Day 3: AU/Crossover





	1. Invocation to the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously a crossover with Turandot. I'm pulling mainly from Puccini's Opera, but I also utilize elements of Schiller's translation of Gotti's play. I couldn't finish the whole thing in time, so I'm just posting the first of what will be three chapters.

_It was the coronation of Salvatore Maroni and royal families from across the continent had gathered to witness the event. As foreign royals arrived in the weeks preceding the ceremony, the Moronis hired additional governesses so that the Kings and Queens could leave their children in their care and be free to socialize. Oswald Cobblepot, Prince of Van Dahl, was one such youth. At first, he was optimistic that perhaps other princes and princesses would be kinder than the young aristocrats he encountered at home. But he was quickly disappointed to find that whatever physical and personality defects caused others to treat him with such scorn were equally off-putting to the population here. In fact, this situation was worse, for while the other children at home had to restrain their dislike with regards to his standing as heir, here they were true peers and had no reservations about mocking him mercilessly and even physically hassling him. The overworked governesses offered no assistance, so disheartened and disillusioned, Prince Oswald retreated to the upper floors. He had hoped to find a quiet room with large windows where he could birdwatch – a favorite pastime at home – but as he wandered the floor he heard a piano being played. Intrigued by the music, he followed the sound to a small sitting room where a boy about his age or a few years younger sat playing a tune he read off a score out of a large, dusty book. He was very talented, only slowing the tempo a few times and never missing a note. When the boy finished, Oswald clapped, and he flinched, turning quickly about on the bench to face him. Oswald held out his hand in a placating gesture._

_“I apologize for startling you, I was drawn here by the sound of your playing and merely wanted to express my appreciation.” The boy blinked at him for a moment._

_“It’s what the poor have, the rich need, and if you eat it you die.” Oswald frowned a little._

_“What? Are you making fun of me?” The boy jumped to his feet._

_“No!” He twisted his fingers together. “No. It’s a riddle. It means ‘nothing’. You have nothing to apologize for.” Oswald relaxed and held out his hand._

_“I am Oswald Cobblepot, Prince of Van Dahl. Who are you?” The boy extended his own hand and shook Oswald’s gingerly._

_“Edward Nygma, Prince of Nashton. What do you want?”_

_“Well, I did want to find a good window for birdwatching, but I’m adaptable. What are you doing?”_

_“I was reading in the library, but then I found a music book I wanted to try, so I came here to play.”_

_“A library? I love books, I often entertain myself reading.”_

_The two of them spent most of the rest of the afternoon in the library, occasionally Edward would find a piece of music he wanted to play, and they would head back to the piano. At one point Oswald convinced Edward to try bird watching, and he seemed genuinely engaged by Oswald’s ability to list off the differences between the subspecies they could see and the kinds he saw back in his home country. All-in-all it was the most fun Oswald could remember ever having with another child. Eventually, one of the governesses noticed they were missing and brought them back downstairs to have lunch with the other children. A few minutes into the meal, one of the kids who had made fun of Oswald’s nose earlier approached, flanked by a few others. Oswald braced himself, wondering if Edward would want to play with him anymore after discovering the level of scorn their peers held for him. But the boy wasn’t looking at him._

_“Hey Nygma, what did we tell you yesterday about eating lunch with us?” Edward cowered in his seat._

_“Not to do it.”_

_“And what did we tell you to do?”_

_“Eat on the floor in the corner.”_

_“Right, so why are you here instead of there? Did you forget? Are those instructions just too hard to follow, dummy?” Oswald had gotten over his initial surprise and couldn’t take it anymore._

_“Hey, leave him alone, who coronated you king of the lunch table?”_

_“And what are you going to do about it, loser?” The boy tried to shove him, but while Oswald wasn’t particularly big or strong, he knew how to fight dirty. He side-stepped out of the way, grabbed the boy’s arm, and twisted his fingers back. The boy let out a pained shout and scrambled away. He and his cronies walked away quickly, and Oswald sat back down next to Edward, who was staring at him, mouth slightly open._

_“I-Wow. I- The less you have, the more they’re worth, what are they?” This time Oswald took the time to decode the statement._

_“Friends?” Edward nodded, smiling broadly. “Edward, are you asking me to be your friend?” Edward looked away, biting his lip, then shot Oswald a glance out of the corner of his eye and nodded. Oswald pretended to consider for a moment. “I accept, of course!” Edward grinned impossibly wider._

_“You can call me ‘Ed’.”_

_The two were inseparable the rest of their stay. After the coronation, as families began to pack up and prepare for their long journeys home, they asked their parents to arrange a method of correspondence between them. They didn’t see each other again but wrote to each other frequently throughout their teenage years. Oswald found himself growing even fonder of Ed as the years passed until he was forced to admit to himself that his feelings for his long-distance friend were well beyond platonic. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. Should he tell Ed? It could damage their friendship and what did he have to gain? They couldn’t be lovers, they were hundreds of miles apart. They couldn’t get commit to one another, two men didn’t get married, it just wasn’t done. Eventually, Oswald’s decision was made for him when it was announced Prince Edward was betrothed to Princess Kristen. Heartbroken, Oswald tried to be supportive of his friend, but it was so painful he began to neglect their correspondence. The King Theo of Duma invaded Van Dahl and Oswald had far more pressing concerns than his pen-pal. He and his mother fled the country, unable to locate his father amidst the panicked crowds. The two traveled south, running into a tribe called the Blue Boys lead by Khan Gordon. He was searching for his bride, a woman named Lee who had been kidnapped by the leader of a rival tribe, Khan Dorrance. Oswald knew he needed to find his father or what became of him and try to take back his kingdom. He knew it would be a difficult quest and that his mother wasn’t prepared to handle it. He agreed to rescue Lee if Khan Gordon agreed to take care of his mother and provide for her in his absence. The Khan agreed gladly, and once Oswald had completed his mission, gifted him horses and a new suit. Oswald set off, and upon realizing he was near the Kingdom of Nashton decided to stop by its capitol city, Gotham in order to find intel on the state of his country and the fate of his father._

At long last, Oswald reached the gates of Gotham City. The gates were open, and he entered amongst the throng of travelers steadily flowing inside. The city was the grandest he’d encountered in ages, with harsh, sweeping lines of architecture, adorned with intricate medallions, metopes, hems, and moldings. He wandered the city, looking for a place where he might eat and shelter. He was advised that refugees and other displaced people often congregated in a neighborhood near the Jade Palace. Upon arriving there, he was struck again by the beauty of the place. The jeweled castle glimmered green in the setting sun. However, the gorgeousness of the design was marred by a row of stakes topped with skulls. Other men might feel horror, but Oswald had never been bothered by violence and death. He could appreciate the strength of the message such a display sent, although without knowing who the skulls belonged to, he could not discern who it was directed at. Oswald spared a thought for his old friend Prince Edward and wondered what he felt about such decorations. 

Suddenly, a commotion caught his attention. An older gentleman had tripped and fallen. Another man kneels beside him. The second man wears spectacles attached by ribbons tied about his head. The unusual sight distracts Oswald momentarily from the familiarity of the older man on the ground. But a second look yields recognition and Oswald cries out at his good fortune.

“Father!” Oswald rushed over to help his father, Elijah, up. The man with the spectacles helped. “Father, it’s a miracle, I feared I would never see you again!” Elijah leaned on both men, bringing his face close to Oswald’s and squinting. 

“My boy! Is that you, O-?” Oswald cut him off with a harsh shushing.

“Don’t say my name. King Theo is still after us, and who knows where enemies may lurk. “Do you have a safe place to stay?” The spectacled man spoke up. 

“We’ve been staying in a room a few blocks from here.” 

“And you are?” Elijah spoke again.

“Oh goodness, how rude of me. Oswald, you remember Arthur Penn?” Oswald scrutinized the man’s face it did look vaguely familiar. “He was our coachman at the palace, and since we were deposed he has been my only companion, and a most faithful one at that." Penn held out his free hand.

“Wonderful to see you again, Mr. Co- That is, _sir_.” Oswald shook his hand firmly, if a little awkwardly given his father’s placement between them. 

“Mr. Penn, of course! Now, where did you say you two were staying?” Mr. Penn man pointed down the street and he and Oswald helped Elijah walk in that direction. Oswald’s injured leg protested the additional weight, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it.

“My boy! What happened to your leg?” Oswald cringed.

“An injury I sustained during my flight from our kingdom healed poorly I’m afraid. But I’ve learned to handle it. Don’t worry yourself.” 

The trio made their way to a small flat as Oswald and Elijah filled each other in on their whereabouts. Elijah wept with joy when he heard that his wife was alive and safe.

“Oh, thank heavens. I honestly feared you both had perished. While I’m saddened not to be reunited with her yet, I am too grateful for both of your lives to feel today is anything but a blessing.” Oswald turned to Mr. Penn.

“So, what inspired you to stay loyal to my father while so many other ungrateful mongrels fled?” Mr. Penn, glanced away, cheeks darkening. Or perhaps it was just the lighting.

“Oh, I’ve always had… such great… respect for you.” He stuttered. “And your family! Sir.” He spoke hurriedly. Their conversation was interrupted. By a loud voice outside coming from the palace. 

“People of Gotham. Princess Myrtle has failed the trial. She will now be executed as soon as the moon rises above the horizon in accordance with the law.” Oswald stuck his head out the window.

“The moon is halfway over the horizon already! What ‘trial’ could this Princess fail that would possibly warrant death?” Elijah’s mood turned somber. 

“It’s Prince Edward.” Oswald could suddenly hear his own pulse. “He is highly sought after by royal maidens wishing to be wed, lord knows why. But to do so they have to pass a test-“

“I thought Prince Edward married Princess Kristen?”

“He was once, but something turned sour because she was executed several years ago from what I’ve been told. Now princesses from all over seek his hand. But unless they can answer his riddles, they are beheaded for their trouble. Every few weeks someone bangs thrice on the palace gong to signify their intention to court him, and every time they are beheaded when the moon rises that night.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that Edward is single and on the market?” 

“What? I’m informing you of the sorry state of affairs here that you showed some interest in a moment ago.”

“What is the exact wording of this ‘trial’ law?” Elijah stared at him almost vacantly. Mr. Penn spoke up.

“’This is law: Edward Nygma, the Riddler, will wed whoever solves three riddles that he asks, so long as they are of royal blood. But whoever faces the trial and is defeated must bow to the blade.’ Why do you want to know sir?” Oswald’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears now.

“And you’re sure that’s the exact wording? You’re positive?” Mr. Penn nodded. 

“Sir-” But Oswald was already hurrying out of the room and back onto the street. His father and Mr. Penn straggling behind. As the moon finished rising, guards escorted Princess Myrtle to a guillotine on the roof. The clamor of the crowd swelled. Some cried out for mercy, others cheered on the execution. Oswald was silent. Searching the ramparts for a glimpse of…  
There!  
As Myrtle prepared for her fate, a tall man glad in shining green stepped out before the throng. Oswald’s breath caught in his throat as he pulled out a scroll and read the exact words Mr. Penn had recited minutes earlier. He was even lovelier than Oswald had imagined, the rounded features of his boyhood had sharpened into cheekbones that could cut glass and deep-set dark eyes that captivated Oswald from hundreds of feet away. 

“Oh, he’s gorgeous.” Oswald hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but that’s what Ed did to him. Fortunately, no one heard him above the noise of the mob. All the soft feelings Oswald had once harbored for him rose in him again, stronger than ever. All the not-so-soft feelings as well. “How did I live without him all these years?” His father caught up with him as the blade fell on Princess Myrtle.

“My boy, why did you come to attend this tragic, bloody occasion?” Oswald should have felt embarrassed to speak about such matters with his father, but it’s not like he would be able to keep his feelings a secret soon, and the desire singing in his heart overpowered all shame.

“It’s Edward Nygma father, I’ve carried a torch for him since we were children. I’d thought him long married off and resigned myself to it under the logic that two men could never be bonded so anyway. But now here he is, single and with a law that says anyone who can solve three of his riddles can marry him. “Anyone.” There are no gender specifications made, just requirements of royal lineage.” Both his father and Mr. Penn just stared at him for a moment before his father suddenly reached forward and grasped him firmly about the shoulders. 

“My boy, I’m not sure I know where to begin. I understand the passionate draw of young love as much as anyone. You know your mother and I were hardly a conventional match. But if you fail to solve even one riddle, you will die.”

“Odds I am happy to accept.”

“Oswald you have not even communicated with this man in years. Not seen him in person since childhood. You are risking your life for someone who almost certainly returns not an ounce of your affections.” Mr. Penn shuffled forward. 

“Sir, if you die you leave your mother alone, your father destitute, and your kingdom hopeless in the face of occupation. Think of your commitments and responsibilities.” Oswald heard these comments as if from underwater. His senses consumed by the object of his infatuation. 

“I apologize to you both, but now that I have the chance, however slight and however costly, I have to take it. I must obtain him.”


	2. Figlio del Cielo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's past relationship with Kristen is explored, and Oswald faces Edward's trial.

_Edward kissed the hand of his beautiful fiancé Kristen, the most he was allowed to do until they were officially wedded. He had possessed romantic feelings towards her since they were children and nearly a year into their engagement could still hardly believe they were betrothed. When his parents had approached him with a slate of potential wives that met their personal match-making objectives, Edward had immediately pointed her out has his personal first choice, never truly imagining that she and her family would agree. He didn’t know exactly what the process was like on her end, their parents had settled the arrangement privately before he officially proposed to her, but she always smiled at him whenever he made romantic gestures. Sometimes she seemed a bit stiff, but her demeanor was a vast improvement over the cold shoulder she’d often given him over the years. She gave him a small close-lipped smile now._

_“It’s good to see you again Prince Edward, thank you for inviting my family to come visit yours here at your palace.” Their parents greeted each other nearby and Edward took advantage of their distraction to hold onto Kristen’s hand a bit longer than protocol advised._

_“If this palace is to be your home, I thought you would appreciate spending some time getting acquainted with it before you actually move in here.” Edward reluctantly released her hand, hoping she would find his tactility charming instead of inappropriate as long as he didn’t push it too far. God, he hoped he hadn’t pushed too far. He offered her his arm instead. “Would you like a tour?”_

_“That would be lovely.” She linked her arm through his, the faint warmth of her he could feel through the layers of cloth made his arm almost itch with shivers. He showed her the main communal areas like the ballroom, the dining room, and so forth. She seemed to be responding positively so he dared take her upstairs to his wing._

_“A whole wing to yourself?”_

_“Well, I am an only child,” He laughed. He hoped it didn’t sound forced. “besides, even though I’m not officially the head of state until Father passes, I still have a wide range of duties.” Kristen perked up. He hadn’t thought her listless before, but now she was visibly more engaged he would do anything to keep her attention._

_“What kinds of duties?”_

_“Ah, mostly paperwork, managing palace staff, royal ministers, and regional governors, and the like.” Kristen deflated._

_“Oh, well I’m sure that’s… exciting.” No! He couldn’t bear to disappoint her. He couldn’t let this brief moment of real interest fade._

_“Uh, I’m also in charge of Intelligence Services!” She was re-engaged._

_“Do you mean, espionage?”_

_“Well, yes. I coordinate with our operatives within our nation and internationally, give them assignments, monitor their status, collect and summarize their reports, that sort of thing.”_

_“That sounds fascinating. Do you collect all the reports? Could I see one?” She must have noticed his discomfort with the idea for she quickly amended it. “Nothing top secret of course, I just mean I think reading a bit about a foreign land from the perspective of a spy instead of a traveler or explorer or the usual kinds of authors would be enthralling.” Edward nodded, he understood the burn of intellectual curiosity, and he couldn’t bear to sour the mood of camaraderie that had bubbled up between them._

_“Alright, but you mustn’t tell anyone, even the most banal reports are considered highly classified.” He brought her to his file room, drawing the keys out of a pocket in an inner flap of his garment to open the door. He let her read an account of a spy in King Tom’s court. It was mostly a description of the country’s high society culture and castle architecture. He hoped it wouldn’t bore her._

_After that evening, Kristen seemed to warm up to him considerably. She would stay chatting with him at meals long after their parents had left the table and follow him to his office to continue their conversations while they worked. Sometimes they talked about literature, sometimes his work, sometimes Kristen’s new pet doves (Ed was sure they were pigeons, but he didn’t want to tell her and spoil the great love she clearly had for them), and sometimes – the subject that made him positively giddy to speak of – their wedding. Hearing Kristen discuss potential guests, food, and clothing made him feel warm and dreamy. The only issue that chilled his mood was when she brought up the subject of a best man._

_“Which of your friends is the best swordsman, Edward? Make sure to ask him if he’d be willing to be the best man, we can’t have a poor swordsman as best man.” Edward only had one friend, and while he only knew of his swordsmanship second-hand, there was no one else he wanted by his side on the happiest day of his life. However, ever since his engagement, Oswald’s correspondence had become less frequent and the tone of his letters stiffer. When Edward had asked him if anything was wrong, Oswald had written something vague about his own lack of romantic prospects for the time being. Since then Edward had tried to be sensitive about the matter and avoid mentioning his upcoming nuptials altogether, now he wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. He didn’t want to rub his happiness in his friend’s face._

_His dilemma was put to an end in the worst way possible when news reached him that Kind Galavan had invaded Van Dahl and Oswald had been forced to flee to parts unknown. Devastated, Edward retreated to his office with a bottle of wine in each hand and got to the task of drinking his troubles away. As he started on the second bottle, Kristen knocked softly on the door and slipped in._

_“Edward, are you all right?” He shook his head as she sat on his desk._

_“My best friend has been deposed by invaders, I may never see him again.” She pet his hair and he leaned his head against her sternum._

_“I’m so sorry Edward, do you think one of your intelligence officers could locate him? I know Bones and Duke have contacts in some neighboring kingdoms.”_

_“I’ve already sent Duke instructions to search, but prospects are dim. And I can’t ask Duke, some classified information he shared with me ended up in the hands of King Tom, until I know how I have to consider him a possible double agent.” Edward sighed against her, it was nice to be close to someone during such a sad stressful moment. His parents had never been warm in that regard, and Oswald had always been so far away. He’d never been comforted like this before. He began to feel a bit calmer, a bit more clear-headed, even through the haze of alcohol. “But perhaps he could wrangle something with The Nail, he’s a bit of a loose cannon, but he has quite the network of contacts.” He scrambled around clumsily searching for some parchment, only to find Kristen ready with a page and an ink-brush._

_“Tell me what to write, love.” Edward paused, Kristen had never actually said she loved him before. Should he be elated at this slip? Or was it a meaningless endearment he shouldn’t read too much into?_

_“Uh… To: The Nail. From: The Riddler… Seeking information about Oswald Cobblepot, the recently deposed Prince of Van Dahl, name your price.”_

_“And how should I address that?” Kristen carefully rolled up the note and sealed it with wax, embossing it with the stylized “R” stamp Edward used for clandestine correspondence._

_“Just place it in the cherry box inside the top left drawer of the ebony cabinet,” Edward slide open his desk drawer a crack so that it pressed against him stomach and took out a key, “my agents will know what that means.” He handed to key to Kristen._

_“What does it mean? You have quite the system with all these different code names, and cabinets, and boxes, and different woods; But I’ve never been able to figure it out.” Kristen stood up, leaving him to slump against the hard wood of the desk, and walked over to the cabinet in question._

_“Well, each cabinet is for a different region, and each box is for a different agent…”_

_“Which region? Do the agents come here directly?” Kristen had opened the drawer and dipped her hands inside. Edward could hear the faint sound of parchment sliding against parchment._

_“Well, I don’t think I should tell, you. I mean this is all rather confidential…”_

_“But we’re going to be married! I mean, if there’s anyone you can trust with a secret it’s your wife! You don’t want to bring deceit into our marriage, do you?” The wood of the desk felt cool on his skin after the warmth of Kristen’s embrace, but a far colder chill was growing in his heart._

_“But we’re not married yet, and these are state secrets. I mean, you haven’t exactly been given any kind of security clearance…”_

_“You’re the Crown Prince! Surely, you can give me whatever ‘clearance’ you want! You’ve already let me watch you work in here! I thought you wanted us to do things together!” Kristen slammed the drawer of the cabinet shut and stormed out of the room. Edward sighed, pulled himself to his feet, and stumbled after her._

_He found her in her room, furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment. She flinched bodily when he entered and folded the page over._

_“Edward, what are you doing here?”_

_“I wanted to talk. I wanted to figure this out.” She shifted in her seat, then turned away._

_“Well, I’m not in the mood to talk. We can discuss things tomorrow.”_

_“I just don’t know why you care so much, something seems off here and I don’t understand.”_

_“Get out of my room Edward Nygma!” Edward took a step back, shocked by her harsh tone. That chill from earlier turned to a stone in his stomach. Like a rotten walnut, poisoning his insides. Something was very wrong, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know what to think about it. He was about to give up and leave when one of Kristen’s birds flew in the window._

_“You shouldn’t let your doves fly out in the open like that, there are a variety of birds of prey around here that would happily have them for a snack.” He reached forward and grabbed the bird, intending to put it away safely in its cage, but then he noticed a note tied to its leg._

_“No!” Kristen lunged forward, but Edward had already pulled the small scroll free. He let go of the bird to hold her back with one hand while he studied the message in the other. The wax seal lacked any insignia, but the signature left no doubt as to the author._

_“King Tom?” Kristen stopped reaching for the letter and took a step back, her eyes wide and dewy. “You’ve been writing King Tom?” Edward glanced back and forth between rereading the words on the page and watching the horrified expression on Kristen’s face. “How does he know about Bones? Oh! Oh, of course! You’ve been sending him information. Your birds aren’t doves, they’re pigeons, and you knew that! They’re carrier pigeons! Why? Why would you-” He scanned the parchment once more. “You know, the tone of this is rather romantic. Are… Are you… involved with him?” Kristen was crying a little now, but she held his gaze as she answered, her voice clear._

_“We’re lovers.” Some more tears slid out of her eyes, but her shoulders relaxed. Like she was relieved the secret was out and her charade was over._

_“We’re engaged. We’ve been together every day for months. We’ve talked about everything. Did any of that mean anything to you?” Kristen wiped her eyes. She didn’t seem perturbed by the way Edward’s voice had lowered to a growl._

_“Look, Edward, you’re a sweet guy. But I didn’t want this marriage. It was my parents’ idea. Tom and I have been together for a long time. It’s not my fault our relationship didn’t fit into my parents’ geopolitical schemes. And while I do consider you a friend, when I found out you were spying on Tom… I mean… What was I supposed to do?” Edward felt something inside of him snap._

_“You could not string me along like a fool.” He grabbed her around the throat and for the first time she looked afraid. “You could not use me to spy on my country.” He dragged her out of the room and to his father’s throne room. Once his father saw the indisputable evidence of her treachery, it was no labor to convince him to have her executed. As the executioner readied her on the roof of the palace, Kristen pled, long beyond tears._

_“Edward, please, don’t do this!” But Edward felt nothing in his heart but dark, cold, numbness._

_After that, he vowed never to marry and challenged anyone who sought to snare him in the bonds of matrimony to outsmart him by answering his riddles first._

_So far, no one had gotten close._

Prince Edward watched impassively as Princess Myrtle’s disembodied corpse was hauled off and her head placed on a stake and added to the rampart alongside the other women who had tried to invade his life. He straightened his sleeves and prepared to go back inside. _Hopefully, I’ll get through a few months without someone trying to force me down the aisle._ Then the sound of the gong rang through the air. _Or not._ This was highly unusual. Edward had never had someone challenge for his hand the very day a former suitress was executed. When he had initiated the trial, Edward had held some hope that it might discourage women from attempting to court him, but there had actually been a slight increase every year. Not that he could blame then, Edward understood the draw of a good challenge. The prince walked along the palace rooftop to see his latest contender and saw they were unusual in more than just their timing. They were a man. Edward couldn’t help but be a little intrigued. He had never personally understood why women were supposed to be more sexually attractive than men, it wasn’t an opinion he shared with the general population. But he did understand why, from a reproductive perspective, relationships with members of the opposite sex were treated as special. He knew he’d certainly never heard of two men marrying. Apparently, neither had his father for the King appeared on a balcony below him and began questioning the newcomer.

“Are you trying to announce your desire to marry my son, Prince Edward?” Curiosity got the better of him and Edward peered over the edge of the palace roof to get a closer look at the stranger. He was dressed in rather simple in clothes that failed to betray his nation of origin. But they seemed of high quality, not the garb of a peasant. He was also wearing a thick layer of make-up. 

“That is my intention, your Majesty!” There was something familiar in the tone of his voice, his inflections. Edward wondered if they had ever encountered each other at some international gathering, perhaps a royal wedding or coronation. There was something familiar in the length of his nose, the shape and spacing of his eyes. But as he walked forward, Edward was distracted by his severe limp. He would have remembered a limp like that. 

“You are aware that you are a man, yes?” The man chuckled in a way that seemed good-natured but had a cold sharp undertone. 

“Your law requires your son wed whoever can answer his riddles, so long as they are of royal blood. It makes no mention of a gender requirement. And I assure you, I am of royal blood.” Edward had never considered that wording as a loophole. This gentleman was clever, Edward couldn’t help but appreciate that. He would be sure to devise some particularly challenging riddles for him. 

“Well, I suppose there’s no use barring you from attempting. The chances you will succeed where dozens have failed are obscenely low. However, I can say I have never been so hopeful that someone would fail my son’s trial.” The stranger’s smile widened, yet also stiffened. “There’s no use wasting time. Edward, come down to the palace entrance and get this ordeal over with!” 

Edward straightened his clothes and hair, then descended into the courtyard to meet the strange Gentleman. When he arrived, the man focused on him instantly, staring so intensely he actually leaned forward. His hands came forward to twist themselves into fists in front of his bent frame. 

“Hello Prince Edward,” he gave Edward a wobbly smile, his eyes crinkled up at the outer corners, “it is so good to see you.” Edward thought this was an oddly familiar form of address, but he let it slide. 

“I will admit I was impressed that you both noticed the loophole in the law and had the guts to…” Edward touched his middle finger to his thumb as he swiveled his hand beside his temple “…ask for my hand.” He squared his shoulders and pointed down forcefully at the stranger. “But you will not defeat me.” 

"I don’t want to defeat you,” the Gentleman replied hurriedly, fists unfurling to turn his palms towards Edward, “I want to win you.” Edward thought that was a distinction without a difference, but decided he didn’t want to waste time and energy arguing semantics. The Gentleman unsettled him, and the sooner he failed Edward’s test the sooner he would be executed, and the sooner Edward would never have cause to think of him again. 

“Prepare to lose, sir.” Edward lifted his hands, moving them to emphasize and punctuate his words. “Riddle me this: I can fill a room with just one heart. Others can have me, but I cannot be shared. What am I?” 

“Hm,” the Gentleman began to pace in front of him, fingers rubbing back and forth as he raised his hands into the air before him, “‘can fill a room with just one heart,’ clearly some strong emotion…” he muttered to himself as he strode back and forth, his limp turning his gait asymmetrical, “an emotion that can’t be shared even when others are simultaneously experiencing it… grief? No, if you’re grieving the same person you can share that…” his eyes lit up as he turned sharply to point at Edward triumphantly, “loneliness! Is it loneliness?” Edward felt uneasiness swirl between his internal organs, but his face remained impassive as he gave the Gentleman a thumbs-up. 

“Correct. Congratulations, but don’t get smug. Others have managed to answer one of my riddles. But no one has ever answered two.” No one had ever answered one so quickly before, but he didn’t need to know that. “Riddle me this: I can be a member of a group, but I can never blend in. What am I?” Edward’s confidence was further eroded by the Gentleman’s scoff. 

“An individual, obviously.” Edward’s blood ran cold, he felt sweat begin to bud on his brow. 

“Correct.” The gentleman practically squealed as his body convulsed in excitement. Edward only had one riddle left. One riddle protecting him from dreaded matrimony, and quite the unconventional one at that. Of course, most people couldn’t answer a single riddle. This man had broken a record, but that wasn’t necessarily a predictor of future success.  
Several princesses had solved one riddle, it hadn’t meant much when they failed the second. On the other hand, this man had already blown the competition out of the water. There was no guarantee he would falter now. Edward steeled himself and posed for the final question. “Riddle me this: I feel your every move, I know your every thought. I'm with you from birth and I'll see you when you rot.” The Gentleman pondered this last one for several minutes. He paced up and down, he muttered to himself, he squeezed his eyes shut and hummed under his breath. But after a moment of staring at the palace windows, he calmly informed Edward of his answer. 

“A reflection.” Inevitably, it was: 

“Correct.” Edward felt numb, yet overstimulated. The Gentleman’s noises of triumph faded to white noise, but that white noise also felt overpowering and claustrophobic. He could hardly believe it. His life as a free man couldn’t be over just like that. He wasn’t really going to be forced to share his home, and his throne, and his bed, and his secrets with this stranger. It couldn’t be true. Yet reality stood before him, openly weeping happy tears. Edward’s father shook himself from his own state of shock. 

“Well, this isn’t how I wanted this to happen, and honestly not the person I would have wished it to happen with. But at least I won’t have to mount the heads of any more young maidens on my palace ramparts.” He awkwardly shook the Gentleman’s hand. Ed swallowed down his horror and addressed his father with a humiliatingly choked up and wavery tone. 

“Please father, don’t force me to do this. Marriage will destroy me, I cannot bear such a tormented existence.” 

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic. I let you write your silly law and play your ridiculous games. I honestly should have had you marry some aristocrat from the Kingdom of Diamond first chance I got. But you made me swear an oath that you would only marry whoever could pass your little test. Well, now someone has, and I must keep my word. An oath is an oath.” Edward felt his eyes sting and closed them, pressing his fingers against them until the sensation ebbed. He turned desperately to the Gentleman and sunk to his knees before him. 

“Please don’t make me do this. Surely you don’t really desire to possess me by force. Do you really want a husband who is bitter and miserable?” The Gentleman’s eyes, still moist with his recent elation now widened in horror. 

“Of course not! I want our marriage to be loving and happy!” 

“Don’t you see it can never be so if it begins this way?” The Gentleman’s gaze shifted upwards and away. Then focused back on Edward. He stepped forward and reached down to run his fingers lightly over Edward’s shoulders and the front of his surcoat. 

“I understand. You asked me three questions, and I answered them all. I will ask you only one. What is my name?” Edward just stared. Caught between relief that he might be able to turn this around, fear that the Gentleman would best him in this as well, and frustration that this question wasn’t comparable to his riddles. “Tell me my name before dawn, and you may kill me rather than marry me.” 

“Why not just call it a draw? If I can find out your name we both get to live, just as bachelors.” 

“To have had you within my grasp and to have lost you? I’m not sure I could bear to live with that.” Edward thought that was a little melodramatic, but recognized he was hardly one to judge. Besides, what did he care if this stranger lived or died? Although, it would be a shame to see such an intellect be so needlessly destroyed. Ah, well. Edward had to focus on preserving his own freedom right now. 

“As you wish.” Edward extended his hand to the Gentleman, who took it gently. “So, shall it be.” They shook hands, the Edward strode back into the depth of the Palace to contact his agents and begin his investigation. 


	3. Tanto Amore Segreto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment! (This is also where all those warnings/tags come into play, so be warned.)

Oswald watched Edward disappear inside, leaving him in the courtyard. He pressed a hand to his chest and let out a breathy guffaw. Still only barely beginning to come down from the emotional high of seeing Edward again. Talking to him. It was a bit overwhelming. As he acclimatized himself to the intensity of recent events, Oswald glanced around, twisting his torso back and forth to get a good view of his surroundings. On his left was a large fountain, the statue in the middle was of the goddess of wisdom and the pool sprawled across the yard to form a tiny creek. There was a small tree covered in pink blossoms to his right, casting a wide shadow over a bench. Glancing back at the gates he’d come through he saw the crowd beginning to disperse. His father and Mr. Penn were still there watching him. He smiled encouragingly and made a subtle shooing motion. The two men retreated, and Oswald limped over to the bench to take a seat. He ran the cuff of his sleeve between his forefinger and thumb. He should stay on the grounds, right? He wasn’t just supposed to leave now, was he? Fortunately, before he could overthink his way into debilitating anxiety, Edward returned; accompanied by three figures, two women and a man. They wore green stoles, identifying them as royal ministers. Edward stopped near the fountain and one of the ministers, a blonde woman carrying a scroll, led the other two past him. They faced the crowd and she unrolled the scroll and read its contents in an excessively cheery voice.

“It is hereby decreed, by his royal majesty Prince Edward, the Riddler:

No one is allowed to leave the city until the name of the unknown gentleman is discovered. Anyone who tries to leave will be put to death. 

No one in the city shall sleep until the name of the unknown prince is discovered. 

Those who have any knowledge that could help unmask him will come forward and impart it to Prince Edward. 

Anyone who possesses such knowledge but does not come forward will be put to death, even if their secrecy is not discovered for years, decades, a half-century, or more.

It is law.” 

The two other ministers responded, in unison with the crowd:

“So, shall it be.” The crowd dispersed as the gates closed, their jade sparkling in the moonlight, green color barely visible in the low light. As the ministers returned to Edward’s side, he grabbed one, a burly man, by the front of his shirt.

“As for you three. Use every trick and contact at your disposal. Find me some intel, or I will have you killed too!” The three hurried back into the castle, the man twisting out of Edward’s grip to do so. Oswald had never seen Edward act so harshly. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant. He wasn’t sure how to react, but he had to break the tension. He caught Edward’s eye and gave him a wry smile.

“‘No one in the city shall sleep’? That includes you, I suppose. I must admit it’s a bit exciting, almost flattering, to think of you losing sleep over me; up all night consumed with thoughts of me.” Edward turned to face him, slowly, he began to walk towards him. “Too bad I’m not keeping you up all night with a more enjoyable activity. Yet…” Edward stopped less than a foot away, glancing down at Oswald without dipping his chin. 

“You think yourself clever, and I’ll admit your wit has impressed me.” Oswald smiled at the compliment then frowned at Edwards next words. “But it has stoked hubris within you, and it shall be your downfall.” Edward shifted impossibly closer, their chests nearly brushing each other. Oswald’s height forced him to at last bow his head slightly to maintain eye contact. Oswald defiantly tipped his own head back so as to face him as directly as possible. Just because he was in love with Edward didn’t mean he had to swoon over him every moment they spent together. He had some pride. “Perhaps you should try to get a little sleep that you might dream of the wicked acts you wish to force upon me, for I guarantee you will not live to see them become reality.” Oswald felt heat flush up and down his core. He’d never had occasion to hear Edward speak in such a low menacing tone, but it was a stimulating experience. He let out a scoff to divert from his visceral appreciation.

“You think my hubris is the problem here? What about yours? Thinking a silly word game would thwart me. Now thinking my name can be found within this city’s limits. As though I would make my name your prize if I had blabbed it to some street vendor or innkeeper. You won’t find a soul in your kingdom who will tell you my name.” Edward’s eyes and stiff posture softened for a moment and he took a small step back, then he lunged forward and gripped Oswald’s chin in his hand.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you so set on possessing me in a matrimonial union?” Edward’s touch fanned the flames inside him, and Oswald steeled himself to keep his composure as he pressed forward into it challengingly. 

“Do you see this as your only chance to marry a man?” Edward released his chin and leaned back a few inches to regard him. “Or at least a man of your station? If you relinquish your claim on me, I assure you I could locate an aristocratic groom for you.” Oswald pressed his lips together and attempted to lift the corners slightly. 

“Oh, Prince Edward, I’m afraid it is not your station I am after, and while I won’t deny I find your masculine qualities attractive, there is no man on Earth who I would accept as a substitute.” He reached out cautiously and ran the tips of his fingers lightly over Edward’s surcoat. “The truth is I have loved you from afar for quite a time.” He felt a surge of emotions catch in his throat. He turned slightly to look up at the starry night sky in order to conceal the moisture welling in his eyes. “I was like a star: far away from you, cold and lonely, but burning brightly for you; beaming my love to you across the lightyears.” Edward shifted to observe the stars as well. “But like a distant star, I was lost amongst your admirers, indistinguishable.” Edward swallowed heavily. “Your competition has given me the chance to stand out, like the morning star, to catch your attention. Like the morning star, it is love that makes me unique.” Oswald and Edward turned back to each other, this time Edward stared straight into his eyes. “Like the morning star, my presence here herald’s an end to a dark frigid existence.” Edward swallowed again, he reached up his hand again, but instead of harsh grasping, he gently laid it against Oswald’s cheek and traced the line of his cheekbone with his thumb. “When the dawn comes, I will be like the sun: awakening as if from a long sleep, able to show you the full power of my affection.” The warmth of Edward’s hand made Oswald feel balmy, almost delirious from the proximity. “Our marriage will warm our hearts and our love will brighten our lives.” Edward jerked away and stumbled backward.

“Marriage might warm your heart, but it would never penetrate the permafrost that encases mine. I am indifferent to love now, and incapable of it.” Oswald blinked and wiggled his head, trying to recover from the sudden intrusion of empty space and cold air between them. “I don’t know how you came to have such feelings for me, but you should banish them because they are futile, and destined to be forever unrequited.” Oswald sighed.

“What happened to you Edward? What did that silly girl do to you to hurt you so?” Edward huffed. He looked away, staring past the blossoms beside them. He swallowed.  
“  
She led me on. She betrayed me. She made a fool of me.” Oswald let out an involuntary noise of sympathy. He knew how much Edward valued his mind. He enjoyed when someone challenged him intellectually. However, Kristen using his feelings to deceive him must have not only injured his pride but felt like cheating.

“I’m so sorry Edward,” Oswald cautiously reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder, “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for you.” Edward continued to direct his gaze off to the side, but he accepted Oswald’s touch. “However, surely you must acknowledge that there could be someone who would never do something like that to you?” Edward’s eyes met Oswald’s again, but they were more opaque than ever.

“And that ‘someone’ would be you? I presume?” Oswald opened his mouth but gagged on his own breath, unsure what the right response would be. “Nice try, sir.” Edward pulled back, leaving Oswald’s arm hanging in the air. 

“You will stay here until I discover your identity, can’t have you trying to flee your execution once you realize I’ve bested you.” 

“You best me? _You_ aren’t doing anything. You’ve just enlisted your personal attendants and the entire population of the city to do your investigation for you.” Edward stared at him a moment, mouth open, then his expression curled into an enraged snarl. 

“Then I shall go out and conduct my own. Personally.” Ed tugged at his clothes in a self-empowering straightening gesture. “Perhaps you should flee with your life while you can. Because finding secret information is literally my specialty.” He marched back inside, leaving Oswald alone under the moonlit blossoms.

* * *

Edward fumed as he strode down the palace halls to his office. Despite how cool the room was with no fire to warm the wood floors and stone walls in the absence of the sun, his confrontation with the Gentleman had left him feeling hot all over. He hurriedly stripped off his surcoat and laid it over the back of his chair, then sat down and began to work on an investigation strategy. First, he needed to write down what he already knew. The man was an aristocrat and they’d met at least once before, so that ruled out a member of a royal family from a faraway region but left the possibility that he was a minor noble. The clothes he wore were clearly not of royal caliber, and he was confident that no one in the city would tell his name. This meant that he had probably traveled here in disguise and unaccompanied. Although it was possible, he’d traveled with people but stayed in the city alone, or that he knew a few people in the city but was assured of their loyalty. Now, why would an aristocrat travel in secret? He could be on a pilgrimage, or in hiding, or on vacation. There were many possible explanations, but the important thing was that he had been traveling long enough to have missed the news of Edward’s broken engagement. Now, back to those clothes. 

Edward stood up and walked over to his bookshelf. He pulled out an illustrated volume on fashions of different regions. He knew the fabric was indicative of an arid climate, so he flipped to the section on the nomadic groups that occupied the nearest desert. The style most closely matched those worn by the warriors who served Khan Gordon, but there was no time to travel there and question people. Edward pulled out an Atlas and retrieved his ruler. Returning to his desk he measured the distance between Khan Gordon’s territory and his own capital city, then calculated the travel time. A few weeks if one traveled directly, even accounting for a circuitous route with numerous stops and slow travel, the journey could not have taken more than a few months. So, if the Gentleman had been out of touch with civilization for years, it was unlikely that he was from the desert. But the desert probably was between Edward’s kingdom and his own. Unless he had traveled from Khan Gordon’s land to Edward’s on his was home _from_ his travels… 

Edward slammed his hands on his desk.

“Ergh!” He let some of his papers flutter to the floor and stood again. He approached the window and looked down at the Gentleman where he sat. His form was obscured by blossoms, but he seemed enviably serene. Edward leaned against the window sill. He was unusually engaging to talk to. Conversing with him had been almost… 

…exhilarating. 

The Gentleman looked up and saw him watching. He hobbled over until he was directly beneath Edward’s window. Edward felt the urge to flee deeper into his office, but he was caught in the man’s gaze.  
“Prince Edward, those three riddles of yours. Why those particular subjects? Were they about you?” Of course, they were. Riddles were always personal. They always revealed something personal about the person posing them. But Edward didn’t want to tip his hand to this man who had already ripped through so many of his defenses, who already made him feel more in a few hours than he had felt in the past few years combined. So, he said nothing. 

“Loneliness, individuality, and a reflection…” The man’s eyes seemed to see straight through Edward’s own into his brain. “Oh, Honey, if you’re lonely, why don’t you want to be married? Why kill those who offer you companionship?” Edward started at the unexpected pet name. He should reprimand the man for disrespect, but something inside him curled up and purred at the endearment and he let it pass. 

“I’m the revealer of masks. When I appear, friend becomes foe, and the one that you love becomes the one that you hate. What am I?”

“Betrayal.” Edward had to admit it was nice to talk to someone who could understand him when he used riddles to communicate. 

“I won’t be betrayed again. If the cost of that is a little loneliness, I can live with that.” The man nodded; as if the agreeable gesture could soften his verbal objections.

“My mother always said life only gives you one true love, and when you find it, you have to run towards it. If Kristen betrayed you, that only means her love wasn’t true. It doesn’t mean you can’t have love at all.”

“And how do you know who your true love is? Is there a test you can conduct? A sign you can look for?” The man open and closed his mouth for a few seconds before spluttering out a defense. 

“You just know. You-”

“I was already wrong once. It’s not worth the risk. And your conduct has certainly not been endearing.” Edward sighed and turned back towards his desk. 

It was unfortunate, but the man had arrived as an adversary, whatever he considered himself to be. His flowery language did not take away the fact his mission was to take away Edward’s agency in a decision that should be consensual. If Edward wanted to keep his freedom, he needed to be merciless. He tapped the wood with his index finger. Perhaps he should make a master list of every nobleman he’d ever come into contact with and narrow it down from there. He would begin by eliminating anyone who couldn’t have been secretly traveling across the region during the past several years and then by physical appearance…

A knock at the door roused him from his thoughts and he opened it to find one of his agents with a scroll.

“Your majesty, we’ve received a number of reports relating to the unidentified stranger.” She a lock of auburn hair fell out from under her hood and he recognized her as Agent Lila. “I’ve compiled the most relevant here for you to personally review. Edward opened the scroll and read the list of reports. The agent shifted from foot to foot and began summarizing verbally. Her voice wavered a little.

“A-A few people saw him help a-an older gentleman who- tha-that fell in the street. Some thought tha- the-they might know each other? They were seen entering a-an inn together and the innkeeper said an eld- old-older man and his servant had been staying there a- fo-for a couple weeks.” Edward finished reading the document himself, then looked up to meet her eyes. She bit her lip.

“Good work Agent, this is a solid lead,” she smiled a little, but also frowned a little at the same time; Edward decided not to waste time trying to decode her expressions, “take me to this inn and I will handle the investigation from there.”

* * *

Oswald hummed to himself as he drummed his left heel against the leg of the bench. The moon was high, it’s bright beams leaving only the smallest of shadows at the bottom of the tree. His confidence grew with every inhale of night air he took, Edward would never learn his name through external information. He would have to realize Oswald’s identity organically from within his own heart. And surely, once he recognized who Oswald was he would be unable to execute him. Perhaps, he would not be ready to love him back yet fully. The first few months or even years of their marriage might be stiff and awkward as he tried to win Edward’s romantic affections in addition to his companionable ones. After all, they were clearly soulmates, and Edward would have to appreciate that eventually. In the meantime, Oswald could be patient. And once he did…

Oswald’s mind wandered to fanciful thoughts of what a loving marriage between them might include, but he was pulled from his imagination by the opening of the gates. The three ministers had returned, accompanied by a small group of people clothed mostly in large cloaks. The ministers approached him while the rest hung back at the doorway. The blonde led the trio and spoke in a bright clipped tone.

“Sir, I am Barbara Keen, Minister of State. These are Tabitha Galavan, Minister of Intelligence and Butch Gilzean, Minister or National Security. As you heard earlier, our continued survival sort of depends on discovering your name. We understand that you probably feel quite proud of yourself for coming so close to possessing Prince Edward, but we would like to suggest that in the name of mercy you accept a substitute. What is it you really want out of this marriage? Is it love? Because,” she gave a strained huff of laughter, “I assure you, Prince Edward will never give you that. But there are others who can!” She motioned forward several members of the crowd. They removed their cloaks to reveal themselves as a selection of scantily-clad men and women. “These fine young ladies and gentlemen are all well-educated, athletic, aristocratic, and ready to devote themselves to a loving partner. Any one of them will provide for your emotional and physical needs to an exponentially more fulfilling degree than Prince Edward ever could.” The men and women tried to assume what Oswald presumed were supposed to be seductive poses, the effect was dampened by the way they were all clearly shivering in the night air. Not that the sight would have done much for Oswald at any time of the day. 

“I’m afraid even the most tepid relationship with Prince Edward would satisfy me tenfold what I would feel with any of these people. And mercy is hardly a virtue I’ve ever claimed to hold. I will not yield.” Minster Gilzean stepped forward.

“What about wealth? Is that why you want Prince Edward? His riches?” She motioned forward some men from the gateway, carrying large trunks. They set them before Oswald and opened them to reveal cold and gems. “We can provide you with all the treasure you could ever wish for. Just tell us your name and you can raid the treasury and the coffers of every merchant in the city!” Oswald laughed.

“As I told Edward himself earlier, I have never been after his status. I may be down on my luck currently, but I have possessed great wealth in my time. And believe me, if money were my deepest desire, I would be working to reclaim it not chasing marital bliss.” He giggled as Minister Galavan approached last. 

“Then why do you want this marriage? Is it glory?” Oswald continued to giggle breathlessly, his laughter became stronger but also silent as he bent over slightly. “I have contacts all over the region, I could send you abroad on quests that would earn you great honor and adoration.” Oswald was laughing too hard to speak, so he just shook his head. Minister Keen interjected again, her tone much colder than before and her volume notable louder.  
“Then what? Just tell us what to do to get you to relent!” She was genuinely shouting now, her face contorted from its previous placid professionalism into naked fury. “It’s one thing to risk your own life but will you really let others die just so you can be trapped in a loveless marriage with the most cold-hearted bastard in the land?” 

“It doesn’t matter what he would let happen, there will be no marriage.” Edward’s voice range through the courtyard as he led a group of black-clad agents out of the castle. They dragged two battered men between them. “I have the name!” Edward stood to the side and gestured to his entourage as the agents thrust their two prisoners forward into the dirt. Oswald’s smug confidence evaporated, and his chest tightened so fiercely no breath could escape as he recognized the men as his father and Mr. Penn. Their clothes were torn, and he could see bruises and bloody scratches on their flesh, but neither were seriously injured. He forced himself to inhale and exhale slowly and quietly, then spoke with feigned casualness.

“These men? You think they know my name? We met just today! And only briefly. If this is your best lead, my victory is inevitable!” But Edward merely smirked. 

“You met them today? Then you won’t be too pained if we interrogate them. Just to make sure.” Minister Kean stepped forward, drew a blade from her waist, and held it to Elijah’s neck. The edge cut into the skin just enough for a few drops of blood to seep out. They rolled slowly down his neck, staining his collar. Oswald almost broke then, but Mr. Penn pulled himself to his knees and straightened his back to look Edward in the eye.

“I do know his name.” Oswald’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. This was not how he wanted Edward to find out. Surely this trial couldn’t conclude like this! 

“You know nothing!” Oswald screeched, stomping his foot. “Don’t you dare speak another word!” But Penn continued. 

“It is my honor to be the only one in this city entrusted with this secret.” Kean released Elijah and returned his blade to its sheath. Edward sighed. 

“And…? What is it? Speak!” Penn rubbed his hands together. 

“Knowing his true name is known only to me brings me greater pride than I have ever had in my life,” he licked his lips “so you see I cannot tell it to you, for then it would be ruined.” Penn spread out his hands apologetically.  
Edward only frowned, his expression darkening until his brown eyes seemed black with malice.

“It isn’t that you ‘cannot’, it’s that you will not. In which case you will be made to.” He turned and clapped Minister Galavan on the shoulder. “You’re up.” Oswald gasped.

“Edward you cannot be serious. Torturing an innocent man who never volunteered to take any part in your games?” Edward was unmoved.

“I do what I must.” 

Galavan began to beat Penn viciously with a whip.

“Tell us his name!” Penn shook with the force of her blows. One slashed him across his face, severing the ribbons that held on his spectacles which fell to the ground. 

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.” He shuttered. The Minister of Intelligence proceeded flick her whip so it wrapped around his neck. She tugged so that he slumped onto all fours, choking.

“Leave him be!” Oswald interjected, but he was ignored. He stepped forward to intervene only to be restrained by Minister Gilzean. After nearly a minute Galavan released Penn.

“His name!”

“No.” he gasped. Edward frowned. He approached Penn and bent over to talk to him.

“You do understand this pain will only get worse until you tell me?” 

“I will never tell you. I would rather die.” Edward’s frown deepened. He tilted his head as he regarded Penn.

“Why? Where do you find this strength to resist? What fuels such deep loyalty?” Penn sighed and picked his spectacles off the ground. One was broken, but he held the other up to his eye and looked up to meet Edward’s gaze. 

“Love.” Oswald like he’d had the breath knocked out of him. Edward jerked back, then slowly raised his eyebrows. 

“Love?” Penn continued to stare straight into his eyes, lifting his chin to do so. 

“Yes, love. Unspoken, but so strong it makes your tortures pleasurable because of who I suffer them for.” Oswald felt an unpleasant flush creep over him. A sensation as though a swarm of maggots had materialized in his stomach came over him. He was embarrassed to realize he wasn’t certain he recalled Penn’s first name. Edward’s reaction was more intense glowering. 

“We’ll see how this ‘love’ of yours fares against my own technique.” He motioned to the palace entrance and several servants came out holding a squirming sack which they handed to him. Ed held it out to (Arnold? Was it Arnold?) Penn demonstratively. “Rabid rats.” He proceeded to take Penn’s free hand and lower it bit by bit into the sack. Penn struggled and became to shriek. After a few moments Edward released him and he whipped his now bloody hand out of the bag and clutched it to his chest. Oswald saw he was missing a finger. “Now, tell me the name or it’s your head in the sack next.” Minister Kean stepped forward and grabbed Penn by the shoulders. He trembled and began to cry.

“Oh goodness, I don’t think I’ll be able to withstand that.” Edward smiled, but before he could reply Penn turned and seized Kean’s blade which he then plunged into his own torso. Oswald gasped in shock. So did Edward. Penn swayed on his knees and curled in on himself. “Oh, Prince Edward of Nashton, the Riddler, you think yourself so removed and aloof, like the snowy top of a mountain. You think you’ve frozen out all soft feelings. But he will melt your icy heart. You will love him as I do.” Penn crawled towards Oswald. “I have ensured your secret is kept until dawn, sir. And though I lose my life I am happy knowing you will win.” He was three feet away when he collapsed face-first into the grass never to move again.

Gilzean finally loosened his grip on Oswald, and he hobbled towards Penn’s prone corpse. 

“Penn! Oh my god!” Elijah stumbled over as well and knelt beside Penn, shaking his shoulder tentatively. 

“Penn? Arthur? Oh heavens!” Arthur! That was his name! Oswald rounded on Edward.

“You’ve tortured sweet, innocent Arthur until he literally preferred death! I hope you’re satisfied with yourself!” Edward glared back. 

“Torture that you could have ended by volunteering your own name at any point!” Oswald hadn’t thought of that. “I did what I had to. It’s your fault I’ve been brought to this desperation.” He limped closer to Edward, tilting his chin up to stare him in the eye. “Edward Nygma, you are no Prince of Puzzles, you are the Prince of Death! I should despise you for your refined barbarity, but I somehow, I am still afflicted with such affectionate passion. Woe be to me, a candle who loves a glacier!” Edward’s face twitched but his tone was cold.

“You said when you gave me this challenge that you wanted a ‘happy and loving’ marriage with me rather than the bitter one forcing me into matrimony would create. But this task still brings the same outcome. I am just as opposed to marriage now as I was earlier this evening. Would you really rob me of my freedom?” Oswald clenched his hands into fists and fisted them in the front of Edward’s shirt.

“Eaugh! Of course not! I had hoped that you would realize for yourself who I was and that you might hold enough affection for me, even platonically, to not wish me dead.” Edward’s forehead crinkled as he watched Oswald rant. He sighed and let go of Edward’s shirt. “But clearly, you really don’t know me, so I release you from the bounds of this challenge.” Oswald laid his hand on Edward’s shoulders. “I am the Prince of Van Dahl. It’s me, Edward. Oswald Cobblepot.” Edward’s eyes widened, but before he could react further Oswald pulled him down and kissed him, hard.

It was bliss. Utter bliss. Somehow his anger and frustration intensified the passion without overshadowing the sweet contentment of having his years of yearning finally satisfied.

* * *

“It’s me, Edward. Oswald Cobblepot.” Edward was stunned. Yet somehow the revelation felt less like the shock being woken from sleep by the pouring of cold water over one’s head, and more like the wonder of discovering the solution to a puzzle after looking at the pieces the wrong way for so long. Of course, it was Oswald. Who had met him once but with whom most contact had been long-distance. Who was a blue-blooded Prince, but deposed and needing to conceal his identity. Who was exceedingly clever and familiar with Edward’s affinity for riddles. Oswald, the man he had considered his best friend, who was apparently in love with him. Oh dear, Oswald said he loved him! What should he-

Edward’s train of thought was cut short as Oswald yanked him into a firm kiss. It burned through Edward like mafic lava. Oswald, who had grown up to be very handsome and eloquent was kissing him as though he could press all his feelings into Edward through their mouths. Edward was abruptly incapable of perceiving anything else, anyone else, with a single one of his five senses. Compulsively, he reached his arms to glide over Oswald’s triceps, the wrapped them gently around his back. He felt like his entire body was trapped in a giant thumbscrew, like his torso was being squeezed to implosion, but in a way that made him want more, made him want to squeeze back just as tightly. 

Slowly, Oswald pulled back, and Edward’s arms fell back to his sides. They stared at each other a moment, panting through the intensity. Then a gold light in Oswald’s eyes caught Edward’s attention. It was the reflection of rays from the rising sun. Edward stumbled backwards. Agent Lila ran into the courtyard. 

“It’s dawn! It’s time to tell the King whether the Stranger’s challenge has been met!” She faltered as she saw Edward’s overwhelmed expression. Do you know his name, your majesty?” Edward nodded dumbly, and she smiled broadly. “Congratulations! I knew you could do it, sir!” She bounced on her toes and turned to call to other agents inside the palace. 

“Bring out the King!” Edward turned away from her beaming face. Away from Penn’s corpse. Away from the man he now knew to be King Elijah still kneeling beside him. Away from his bewildered ministers. And most of all away from Oswald’s soft, sweet face and his beautiful dewy eyes. He couldn’t think about any of them right now. He had to think about himself and his independence. On the other hand, could he really send his best and only friend to his death? Execute the only person since Kristen’s betrayal to make him feel something? He thought of what Oswald had said to him earlier, how could he ever escape the loneliness of his solitary existence if he killed everyone who wanted to keep him company. Oswald was a lot of things, manipulative for one. But he was putting his life on the line to give Edward a choice. Edward licked his lips as he contemplated his predicament. Then again, Edward could say his name and win the right to his bachelorhood, then pardon Oswald before his execution…

He was pulled from his thoughts by his father’s arrival. He strode through the doorway and stopped at the top of the steps, looking down on them all. Edward steeled himself and approached the bottom step, trying to appear as contained as possible. 

“Prince Edward, you have won your challenge and discovered the name of your strange suitor?” 

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Then speak it.” Edward turned and looked back at Oswald. His elegant brows were knit tightly together, his strong hands twisted together where he held them at chest level, a few tears had escaped his bright eyes…  
Edward turned back to his father and looked him steadily in the eye. 

“His name is ‘Love’.”

Edward’s father blinked at him for a few moments. He opened his mouth to say something, but Edward wasn’t interested in hearing it. He turned and walked back towards Oswald, who was gaping at him. He lay a hand on Oswald’s cheek and some more of Oswald’s tears spilled over. 

And then they were kissing again.

Later, they would send for Oswald’s mother so she could be at their wedding.

Later, they would have a tastefully extravagant ceremony in the palace courtyard.

Later, the Nashton armies would help Oswald defeat Theo Galavan and reclaim his kingdom.

For now, they just enjoyed being together at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are curious about the opera this is based on:
> 
> A libretto with the original Italian and an English translation: https://eportfolios.macaulay.cuny.edu/smonte12/files/2012/09/Turandot.pdf
> 
> An album of the opera translated to English: https://www.highresaudio.com/en/album/view/rebayx/jane-eaglen-puccini-turandot-sung-in-english
> 
> A stage version sung in Italian with English subtitles: https://youtu.be/dyZHi-yVESQ


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